Solitary Worlds
by Catalina Royce
Summary: [Complete] They would never stop loving each other. [Please review: It's not all angst nor fluff!]
1. I

**Title:**Solitary Worlds  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Summary:** They would never stop loving each other.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Author's Note:** This is the first chapter of a challenge fic (given to me by Alabaster Storm). It is a Harry/Ginny fic, which is not my normal pairing at all. I hope you guys like it. This is a chaptered story, and it will take a few chapters to understand, so please bear with it. -- _Cat._

* * *

**Solitary Worlds**

**I.**

_Five Years_

Neville and Harry saw each other far too much for their own comfort. When the met on the wards, they gave each other tight, awkward smiles and turned away.

Any friendship they may have once had has been destroyed by a single thought: _She should never have ended up like them. _

And so they'd turn to opposite sides of the room: Harry to the right, Neville to the left. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of Neville's family; the scuffs of feet on the floor, the squeak as the curtains were drawn back from the bed, Neville's quiet murmuring.

He'd focus on the bed in front of him, would walk up slowly, dread pooling in his stomach. Every time, as if in a dream, he would pull the curtain back, expecting to see nothing, expecting to see someone else, expecting to see anything but her.

Always, she'd skitter away like a frightened rabbit, her doe eyes wide. Her hair was wild and untamed from neglect. Her frame had always been small, but now it was almost emaciated. The nurses had informed him that she was paranoid the food was poisoned; the only way to nourish her was to hold her down or to trick her. Her nails were long and she used them as a weapon.

He sat down in the visiting chair. "Hello, sweetheart," he said softly. "How are you?"

She stared at him, backing away.

"It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. I've just come for a visit. You like visits, don't you?"

No reply.

In desperation, he whispered, "It's okay. I'm a friend. I'm Harry. Do you remember me at all, Ginny?"

She whimpered. Said nothing, but there were tears in her eyes. He wondered if she knew the name, or if she believed he was a trick from the Death Eaters to torture her, or if she was still just scared of his presence. He'd never know. She was incurable.

He held out his arms. "I want to hug you. You love hugs, Ginny. Will you come and hug me?"

She raced over to him; a scattered sort of movement which was graceless and frightened. He wrapped her in his arms and drew her close, sitting her in his lap. He rocked her, whispering to her the entire time.

"It's okay. You're safe here, Ginny. No one is here to hurt you. I promise. I love you." He stroked her flame-bright hair and mourned over the loss of the girl he loved.

Her family didn't visit her anymore. They couldn't. It hurt them so unbearably, to see their only girl unable to recognise them, unable to speak, unable to recognise that they were friend, not foe. It had taken Harry two years of visiting every day for Ginny to somehow assimilate that he wouldn't hurt her; her family hadn't been able to bear being with her. He hadn't been able to bear not to.

The frightened girl in front of him had once been his lover, his friend, his love. She had been a vivacious, sparkling girl with the world at her feet. Visiting her was like rubbing salt into a wound, but he knew that the wraith huddled into him was the love of his life; he'd never stop seeing her. He'd never be able to.

They stayed like that. Harry felt his legs begin to lose feeling, but refused to move or say anything about it. Instead he murmured nonsense words to her and revelled in the feeling of her next to him.

Every time he saw her, he cried afterward. She was so alone now, so unable to reach out and take what she wanted. She lived in an isolated place and the only things around her were pictures she didn't recognise and white; white sheets, white curtains, white walls.

Harry heard the scuff of footsteps again, and turned his head to see Neville leaving his parents. Neville, with an awkward look on his face, nodded. Harry could see the hand clenched around the bubblegum wrapper slowly push into his pocket.

It had been five years since it happened. Harry and Neville would never again be more than acquaintances. It was too hard to enjoy the company of someone who was going through exactly the same thing.

God, how they wished the word _Crucio_ had never been invented.

How Harry wished it had been him instead of her.

He wished that she was sane and well.

He wished that they'd been married.

He wished they had little redheaded children.

He made lots of wishes these days.

Sometimes, in his selfish moments, he wished she'd just died, so that he could move on.

But as it was, all she had was him – and all he wanted was her.


	2. II

**II. **

_Four Days_

Ron hugged her tightly. He had detached himself from a sobbing Hermione to see her. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a smile-that-was-not and just shrugged. How was she supposed to be okay? The love of her life was not even cold in the ground. She felt nothing but despair and the certain knowledge that she would never be happy again. She couldn't even take a measure of joy from her surroundings; it was a blistering cold day with ice and frost all over the ground.

It was as though the world had died with him.

"I'm fine."

Ron's eyes were red, too, the faintest shimmer of moisture in them. "Listen, Ginny, I know that—I know that you two were—" his voice cracked. "Soulmates." A single tear slid down. "And if I lost Hermione, I don't know how I'd go on. If you—" he paused a moment, "if you ever need anything from either of us. If you want photos, or to talk about him or – or whatever. He was our best friend. To lose him is like being stabbed a thousand times...I can only imagine what it would be like for you." He looked back at Hermione, then at the casket. "I'm so sorry, Ginny." The tears stated rolling down his face. He hugged her once more, then returned to his wife.

She stared down at the grave, a mahogany coffin pushed down deep, sleet already beginning to cover it. Soon they would bury the last traces of her life. In a year, as is correct, they would place a tombstone above him, to mark his existence.

He was, quite rightly, next to his parents. When she died, she would be next to him. They'd be together forever.

As they should have been.

Her black clothes had been worn many times in recent years. But always, always, he had been there with her, wrapping her up in his arms and promising that it'd be okay, that they'd be fine, that she'd heal and learn to smile again. His embrace was strong and safe, and she'd always known that he was right.

This time, she was alone. He wasn't here to comfort her, he was down there, and she knew she'd never be safe again.

Her best friend, her lover, her soulmate was dead and buried. She had a family of six brothers, two parents, countless nieces and nephews – and she was alone in the world.

She didn't think she'd ever be happy again.

Her dad came up to her, touched her arm. "Ginny, honey, its time to go." She couldn't move. She couldn't take her eyes away from the coffin, ever increasingly covered by snow. Her dad turned her, so she was on an angle; so he could see her face. "Ginny, honey, we need to leave."

She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I can't leave, yet. I can't leave him. He'd never leave without me." The tears started. She hadn't been able to stop crying for three days.

"He already has, sweetie." Arthur turned her to him and wrapped her up in his arms. His hands stroked over her hair, soft and rhythmical as she sobbed.

"Why did he leave me, Daddy?" Her voice was that of a bewildered and hurt child searching for a meaning in death. "He promised me he'd take care of me. He promised he'd keep me safe and love me forever. How can he do that when he—" she broke off. "When he's dead?"

Arthur hugged her tighter. "He will, darling. He will love you forever. He died loving you; that will last longer that anything you've ever known."

She couldn't believe him, not now, not when she felt so alone. What she needed was Harry, alive and well, with his silly sense of humour and his intense gaze. With him there she could have faced anything and everything; death, torture, loss, pain, happiness, joy, laughter, love, passion – anything. Now she didn't think she could even wake up in the mornings.

Her life felt desolate. All the colour had been bleached from it. She wanted to die, right now. She didn't know how to keep on living, how to pretend anything would ever be okay again.

He was gone. _Harry_, who had been a constant in her life. Harry, who had been her hero since first year.

Harry, the boy who lived...hadn't.

And she didn't know how to deal with that.

She'd never be okay again.


	3. III

**III.**

_Three Years._

She would meet him, occasionally, at a party or an afternoon tea. They would smile hesitantly at each other. It was awkward, always, deliberately so. They had nothing to talk about.

They could talk about nothing.

"How is Susan?"

"She's well, thanks. And Dean?"

"Never better. He had a slight flu around July –"

"Ah, yes, there was a cold going around then –"

"Yes, and those Summer colds can be so nasty. I hope you and Susan didn't catch it?"

"No, we were very lucky."

They would lapse into silence again. He would start to speak, breathe in, and hesitate. She'd smile sadly, the wedding band on her finger feeling like a shackle, the wedding band on his flashing like a warning signal.

She would ask, quietly, the only polite question that she truly wanted to know. "How have you been?"

He'd start to mouth a platitude, to fob the question off with a smile and a shrug, then pause, again. He'd stop. Think. "I'm okay. I sleep better these days."

She'd smile, happy but so sad. "That's good."

"You?"

Her eyes would darken and she'd look away. It would take her much longer to reply. "Sometimes I dream. And sometimes I...I forget everything that's happened since." Sometimes she forgot that she was married to Dean.

She loved Dean, in a way. He was security, comfort. He'd be the one holding with her in the night, the one she could hear snoring when she lay awake.

Loving Harry was like having a hole in her heart. Loving Harry was like wanting something so badly she could die for it. Loving Harry was loving someone else's husband; wrong.

She couldn't help it, and so she'd avoid him.

When they saw each other, they'd keep it awkward. He would reach out to touch her; take her elbow, shake her hand, and she'd move away. She knew how much she longed for the touch.

"Ginny," Harry said quietly. "I miss you."

When she looked at him, there was pain in her eyes. She felt betrayed by his admission. They had decided, mutually, that they couldn't talk about this.

But she could never, never ever not reply. "I miss you too.

"But there are other factors. There are other people we will hurt if we get involved again." Tears were in her eyes. "It won't work, Harry."

He nodded. "Can I hug you?"

Her tears spilled over and she nodded. He grabbed her like a drowning man clasping a life raft. His arms wrapped around her. When she hugged him, it was like coming home. The tears were dripping down her face, soaking his shirt, but she didn't care. She longed so badly to take back time, to reverse the one decision that had led them upon their separate paths.

But nothing could do that.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too." She sobbed.

"Always."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Everything is my fault."

He tipped her head up so that she could see his sad smile. "I love you, Ginny. No matter what happens, I love you."

He stepped back, kissed her cheek. "Tell Dean that I said hi." He looked back at her. "I shouldn't come to the next party." Then he smiled wryly. "But I always do."

She understood why. Every time she saw him, it was bittersweet. It hurt unbearably, but every time she could never help herself.

They had lives now that didn't include each other. Somehow, they had drifted onto separate paths. And neither of them knew why, knew how the mistake had been made.

But it had been. Each had lives with a family and friends. Both were married, had made a life and memories with other people.

It didn't make it any easier.

When they saw each other, it was like the years slid away – or like the years in between had been spent with each other.

Every time, it felt like they should be together.

It felt like they were truly soul mates and somehow, they'd stuffed up royally.

They knew they shouldn't see each other.

They would never stop.

Just as they would never stop loving each other.


	4. IV

**IV.**

_Fifteen Months_

Her dad looked at her, puffed up and proud. "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

He smiled and held out his arm. "You're beautiful, Ginny. You look absolutely gorgeous."

She let out a nervous little laugh. "I should hope so. It's a little late to change anything now if I'm not."

"You're stunning. I mean it." He did. Her white dress was made with heavy silk; the bodice fitted and beaded into a pattern that looked vaguely like a firework explosion, the full skirt blooming out around her, swishing with every step, making her waist look tiny. Her hair was down, cascading in curls around her bare shoulders; her veil was attached to a wreath of flowers in her hair. She looked like a fairy princess. She moved like a queen.

He couldn't believe it was this day already.

His little girl had grown up so quickly before his eyes. The war had not helped, of course; Ginny's fifth year had been her last year, and from then she was home-schooled with the closure of Hogwarts. She and Harry had bonded as he taught her hexes and curses for defence, and when she was sixteen she had told him one day to either leave her completely or to accept that they were going to be together.

He'd accepted what they had. He'd faced Voldemort that summer, had proposed the year after –

And now they were here. He, Arthur Weasley, was escorting his only daughter down the aisle to marry Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who saved everyone...but most importantly, the boy who loved his daughter.

As was tradition, he and Ginny had started the procession; the bridesmaids (Hermione and Luna) would follow behind. Again acceding to Wizarding tradition, the ceremony would be very short, followed by a long celebration afterward.

Arthur watched Harry intently as they entered the church. The second Harry saw her, he sucked in a breath and looked away quickly, then back again, his eyes tender and full of love. In that minute, Arthur knew that they were destined -- and desperate -- to be together forever. He smiled, tears in his eyes. They were so right for each other. So complementary. So...perfect. They were perfection in love.

He led her to the altar where the priest was standing, then passed her over to her soul mate.

The priest cleared his throat. "We are gathered here today as friends, relatives and supporters of this union between this woman, Ginevra Molly Weasley, and this man, Harry James Potter. They pledge their love and loyalty to each other in this ceremony."

The priest nodded at Harry; "The couple, as tradition encourages, has written their own vows. They have also elected, not only to exchange vows in the tradition method, but also to utilise the unbreakable vow to cement their devotion to each other."

Those present gasped. The unbreakable vow was a binding agreement. Very few marriages had ever utilised it before – there were too many possibilities and 'what ifs' involved. There were too many stories of marriages gone wrong in the days that Vow was used.

Harry cleared his throat. He had the slim fingers of Ginny's right hand in his, and wondered for all the world how he was going to say anything. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now he was overcome with love and joy. Ginny was going to be his. Forever. There was no fear in his heart, no apprehension, just a feeling of perfection. It was this knowledge that what he was doing was right that got him through.

"With this ring, I pledge to you: I will go where you go, I will hurt when you hurt, I will care for you and keep you safe. I will never leave you. I am yours forever, Ginny. Your heart is my heart, your wishes are mine. Your life is my honour, your love my only necessity. I promise you that I will always be there, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, in joy and sadness, in danger and safety. You are my soul mate; I love you."

A flame shot out of the priest's wand and wrapped itself around their hands. Ginny, tears in her eyes, took her turn to speak. "Harry, I could pledge no less than what you have given me. I too, promise to be there, in every situation, in every obstacle, in both good and bad. I promise to be your best friend, to love you with every fibre in my heart. Even when you hurt me and anger me, know that my love is everlasting, enduring and consuming, and that anger and pain are merely moments in time compared to the eternal passion that engulfs me. I promise you now, that I will go where you go, and I will love you, beyond death, beyond forever. You are more than my soul mate – you _are_ my soul and my self, and I love you. Forever."

Another flame slid out and wound itself around their joined hands. The priest smiled, and ended the spell. "We now exchange rings." Ginny nodded, a smile on her face, tears in her eyes. Harry slid the slim wedding band onto her finger. She mirrored the movement.

"You may now kiss the bride."

With a grin of pure happiness, Harry lifted her veil and laughed when he saw that she was crying. He had been planning to kiss her very sedately and politely; seeing her with tears running down her cheeks and a huge smile on her face, he couldn't help but drawn her close into his arms and kiss her senseless. He drew back and looked at her, _his wife_, and grinned at her. "You're mine now. I finally caught you."

She laughed. "Actually, I finally caught _you_. I do believe I am the one with the longest-standing attachment."

He laughed and kissed her again.

He just didn't care right now. Because Ginevra Molly Weasley was now Ginevra Molly Potter, Mrs Harry Potter, and, his favourite, _Harry's wife_.

He was the boy who lived – but more importantly, he was the boy who'd found the love of his life.


	5. V

**V.**

_Thirteen Years_

"Geeny!" The melodic voice could only belong to one person. Ginny turned around just in time to see a flash of white coat as a woman launched herself at the redhead.

Gabrielle Delacour hugged her friend with all the exuberance that came naturally to her. Gabrielle lived a decadent, sophisticated world and Ginny – with all her earthiness – was both her perfect match and complete opposite.

"Gabrielle!" Ginny exclaimed breathlessly. "I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been?"

"I 'ave been back at 'ome visiting some family," she said with a laugh. "And you? 'Ow are you and 'Arry? Still perfectly in love?"

Ginny gave her a small smile. "Let's get a cup of tea, shall we? We have a bit to catch up on."

Instantly, Gabrielle sobered, her lovely face drawing into a mask of concern as she fully registered Ginny's appearance. "What ees ze matter, Geeny? What 'as 'appened to you?"

"Tea," Ginny said firmly. "And I'll tell you all about it."

As the walked down the street to Tom's, Gabrielle took more notice of Ginny's appearance. On the surface, almost nothing had changed. Her hair still sparkled, and her clothes were immaculate. But something had been lost. Some spark that was once within Ginny had dimmed. Her eyes no longer shone with laughter, and around her mouth there were lines from emotions held in check. They seated themselves and ordered; Gabrielle looked Ginny in the eyes.

"And so you must tell me all, Geeny. From ze very beginning."

"There's not much to tell. Harry and I –" she swallowed. "Harry and I are over."

"When?" Gabrielle exclaimed. "'Ow? You two, you were so very in love, and –"

"And it turns out that sometimes love just isn't enough." She smiled at Gabrielle, a smile that held all the sadness in the world. "After Voldemort, Harry wasn't – the same. But it was okay, because he was still Harry."

"Still the boy who leeved."

"Still the boy I loved. But during the battle, there was a moment – no, a while – when we were separated. I should have been beside him and I wasn't. But Susan was." Ginny gave a tired smile. "And they went through something that Harry and I didn't, and naturally they ended up leaning on each other for support afterwards, and they got closer and closer –"

"That bastard. 'E 'as been cheating on you all zees time?"

"No. He loves me that much." Her laugh was bitter and her hands gripped her tea mug far too tightly. "She went away for a few years and things were fine. But now she's back and Harry says that he can't keep pretending with me when he's in love with her too. He says that he's 'confused' and that he needs to sort things out."

"And what deed you do?"

Ginny looked at Gabrielle with tortured, embittered eyes. "I agreed with him. I said that yes, I can see that he's in a tough situation and that I would never want him to break the law of god or man, and I threw his ring back in his face, moved out and changed my number."

"Geeny! I will tell Fleur! 'E will be blacklisted within 'ours, no, within minutes." Gabrielle paused, fully realising the situation. "'Ow 'as Ronald taken eet? 'E did not tell you to go back to 'im, did 'e?"

The smile on Ginny's face was sad and grief filled. It was obvious that Ginny understood and hated all the implications of their separation. "Ron hasn't spoken to Harry in five months. Hermione – she loves them both but she's married to Ron and she doesn't want anything to come between them. Occasionally she tries to intervene, but it never goes well."

"'Ow did all this 'appen without me knowing?"

"You were wrapped up with your French playboy and I didn't want to worry you. And then you were away for so long – I didn't really know what to say."

Gabrielle looked at her friend. When they'd first become close, it was just after the war with Voldemort, when the two had been struggling with the irrevocable changes in their lives. Still, Ginny had always dismissed things with a smile and a shrug and continued on with hope.

Ginny's hope was gone, now.

"You 'ave broken up with people before, Geeny. Normally you are fine. What is wrong?"

"I never loved anyone after they stopped loving me. And now I do."

She paused, as if taking that in.

"I still love him."

Four simple words that could hurt Ginny for the rest of her life, Gabrielle knew.

But it was the next five that would tear her apart;

"But he doesn't love me."


	6. VI

**VI.**

_Three Months_

They were on a purple couch. Ginny had bought it just after the war, when she'd spent so much time fighting evil that she hadn't been making money, and so had ended up rummaging through old second-hand shops. The garish sofa clashed horribly with Ginny's hair, of course, and her general disposition. It was, without a doubt, one of the most eye-attracting pieces in the room.

At the moment, the only eyes around belonged to the people on the couch. They were lying down on opposite ends of the couch, smiles on their faces and in their eyes. They'd just finished a game of exploding snap, in which both of them had cheated terribly. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans had been consumed in quantity, as had many, many other sweets.

In fact, it had been a pleasant night all round. It had been fun, friendly.

Frankly, it had been a little too friendly, and not in the way Ginny wanted.

It was three months after the end of the Second War. Harry had defeated Voldemort in a terrible battle that cost too much for everyone involved. Even worse than the battle itself was the aftermath. It had taken time for them to recover. All of them.

Particularly Ginny and Harry.

Something had changed that night. Somewhere between the screams and the demands, between the sibilant hiss of Voldemort and the curses, the two had had to make a choice: Each other, or the world the were fighting for.

Unquestioningly, they had made the decision, had left each other to fend for themselves. It hadn't been accidental. They had known, almost with a certainty, that they wouldn't see each other again, wouldn't be the same if they met once more –

-- and still they left.

And now they were trying to pick up the pieces. They'd spent time apart, spent time trying to gather themselves up. The things they'd seen, the people they'd hurt, the people who'd been hurt – all those experiences were different and new and painful and they would never talk about it.

There was something more there. And yet, at the same time, there was something less.

Harry was not the same boy she'd loved. She was not the same girl he'd loved.

She popped another Every Flavour Bean into her mouth. Perfect. Choc-peppermint ice cream. Harry grinned at her, his feet nudging hers. "So, what's your family been up to?"

"Bill's been receiving treatment. Fred and George have been let out of Mungos, and both are fine physically. Ron and Hermione are engaged. Mum and Dad...they haven't said Percy's name since it happened." She gave a small smile. "It's hard. Mostly we just pretend we're okay and one day we will be."

He was silent, and then his hand reached for hers, clasped it tightly. "Ginny," he said huskily, "I want you to know that I..."

She smiled. "I know."

He leaned in close. She almost laughed with relief. He still felt something for her. It was too early to define _what_, exactly, but there was something. She knew he was going to kiss her...his lips were coming closer and closer...she could almost feel them, their comforting warmth, the closeness and familiarity. She remembered all that passion they'd shared. How she longed to feel it again.

Finally he kissed her.

It lasted seconds. It lasted an eternity.

Finally he drew back, looking slightly puzzled. She stared at him in dismay.

Something had changed. They'd known that it wouldn't be the same, but there shouldn't have been – nothing.

He smiled awkwardly. Their hands were still linked. "I guess..." he was silent for a second. "I guess it's over?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes. "But you know, Harry, that I'll always..."

He smiled. "I know." He tugged on her hand, pulled her close and hugged her. She snuggled up beside him.

She loved him, in some way. But there were some things you just couldn't go through and come out the same.

They'd gone into it knowing they'd have to make sacrifices.

She just hadn't expected this one.

He hugged her, held her tightly.

_Mostly we just pretend we're okay and one day we will be._ They wouldn't be okay.


	7. VII

**VII.**

_Two Years _

Ginny screamed in pain, and Harry flinched, his eyes hard with pain and regret. "I'm so sorry," he gasped. "Oh my god, Ginny, I'm so sorry."

She panted and whimpered, turned her head to face him. Instinctively, she reached for him, her hand groping for his. He took it in both hands, covering hers protectively. Her hand clenched in a death grip as another spasm started and she screamed again.

The midwife smiled reassuringly at the couple. "The baby is crowning. It shouldn't be long now. Just keep pushing, dear."

Ginny was gasping for breath. She looked up at Harry, eyes pain filled and tired. "This is all your fault."

He let out a tortured groan. "I know, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry."

She gave him a small smile that was interrupted by another scream of pain. "Here it comes!" cried the midwife. "Come on, Ginny, give us a big push, darling. Push!"

Just as Ginny's contraction ended, another one started. She was gasping for breath, begging for it to be over –

-- and then it was. The midwife, covered in blood and placenta, lifted an infant into her arms. Harry, truly expecting a wonderous sight, looked at it.

It was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. The infant was red and slightly potato shaped. His horror must have shown on his face, for the midwife laughed as she rubbed the baby's ribcage and cleared his mouth. "What," she asked with a chuckle, "You thought they all looked like little cupids when they were born, did you?" – a cry let up from the baby – a good sign, she pronounced. "I'll get this little one cleaned up, and you'll be more impressed, I promise. This little boy will be a handsome one, I can tell."

Harry, relieved that his child was not going to be a potato forever, grinned at his exhausted wife. "Did you hear that, Ginny? We have a son!"

She smiled at him and her thumb stroked his palm. "He will be James."

Harry sobered. He'd always fancied the idea of calling his son after his father, but he'd never mentioned the idea to Ginny. That she'd guessed his wishes made him awed to be with such a sweet woman.

"How about Fabian for a middle name, after you uncle?"

She smiled tiredly. "Mum would like that."

Harry leant forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Sometimes, I am amazed by you. How did you know that I wanted him to be James?"

She laughed softly and kissed their joined hands. "Haven't you realised it yet, Harry? We're soul mates. Wherever you go, I go. Whatever you want, I know. Because I love you."

He smiled, just as the midwife brought the baby – James Fabian Potter – back into the room. Harry took him from her gently, then passed him onto Ginny.

As he watched his wife with his newborn son, Harry could do nothing but smile. This, this was how it was meant to be.

"Soul mates," he whispered. "No matter what, Ginny, you are my soul mate."


	8. O

**O.**

The battle had been raging for hours. The give and take, the death and casualties – it kept going and neither side seemed to be gaining any real ground.

Ginny was next to Harry, by his side constantly. She covered his back constantly. He could hear her curses – both spells and expletives – in his ear and her presence reassured him of her safety.

He heard her shoot another spell off, then there was a quiet moment. She turned to him, bloody and tired, but smiled at him. "Harry," she said quietly. "I love you." **IV.**

"I lo-" he started to reply, but was cut short by a hot streak shooting past his ear. They turned and saw more – ever more – Death Eaters appearing. Even worse, there were more attacking from the back lines as well as the front. Ginny bit her lip, then looked up at him. He knew what she was going to do without her having to tell him. He kissed her quickly, then turned away. "STAY SAFE!" he shouted to her over the din of battle. **VI.**

His distraction cost him. Harry barely dodged a _Sectumsempra_ curse, the red light slashing dangerously close to him. He stumbled, knowing it was his doom, knowing that he was going to die for his mistake. Vaguely, he heard an "_Expelliarmus_," then a hand roughly pulling him up and a feminine voice saying, "Bet you're glad you taught us that one, eh, Harry?" Susan smiled at him and he grinned back, relieved.

"Thank god for you," he replied. He looked over to where Ginny was fighting, still standing, still shooting spells off with rapid speed. He smiled. That was his girl.

Susan smiled at him and turned back to battle, in time to see Parvati Patil fall to the ground, her sister following her, though Padma was screaming and obviously under _crucio_. Susan winced and together they surged forward to save Padma. **V.**

They caught the Death Eater unawares, stunning him and turning towards another enemy, again, almost unconsciously, Harry checked Ginny, and was relieved to see that she'd been joined by Dean. They were working in tandem, fighting for all they were worth. **III.**

Harry turned to Susan and pulled her forward in time to save her from a killing curse, then ran with her to rejoin Ginny. Ginny grinned at him, hot and sweaty and gorgeous. She quickly checked the area for immediate threats, then kissed him quickly.

"We'll get through this," she said with a quick grin. "Or my name isn't Ginevra Weasley. I love you, Harry."

He grinned at her, then turned to face the enemy. A quick tug on his hand stopped him. She interlaced her fingers with his and kissed them. "We do this together, Harry. Wherever you go, I go." **VII.**

Together they fought, hands still clasped.

Harry felt the air change, felt it grow colder and, with dread in his stomach and his heart, he heard the _popping_ noises of many, many people apparating.

"Run, Ginny! GO!" He shouted at her, seeing in horror the Death Eaters closing in around them. "Don't ignore me now, goddamit! GO!" He dropped her hand and pushed her away. She hesitated. **I.**

He pushed her again and she ran, sprinting as fast as she could. She could hear by the cries that Voldemort had arrived.

She would get help. She would find someone to help her take on the two dozen Death Eaters and Harry would be fine.

They would defeat Voldemort, definitely. She just had to get reinforcements. It would all be fine.

From behind her came a flash of green light, and another. She turned in time to see Harry's lifeless body crumple to the ground to lie beside Voldemort's corpse. **II.**

It was over. The Death Eaters disappeared as a sudden surge of the Resistance marched forward, devouring anyone in their path.

Ginny simply stared at Harry, the boy who...

_Finis._


End file.
